


The Mirror's Key

by cozy_tea



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Crossover, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cozy_tea/pseuds/cozy_tea
Summary: Twilight is beautiful. Letting is ebb into the world of light is dangerous, nomatter how similar their worlds might be.
Relationships: Green Link/OC, Link/Midna (Legend of Zelda), Red Link/Blue Link, Shadow Link/Vio Link, Zelda/Sheik (Legend of Zelda)
Kudos: 7





	The Mirror's Key

**Author's Note:**

> So uh. Wow. Talk about a throwback. This is a re-edition of one of my first ever fanfictions.

Twilight is beautiful.

It truly is, no-one could deny it, not even the prince of the Twilian realm could say such a thing as he stared out at the flecking specks of magic that their realm has trapped them with. The soft purples and reds and oranges were a normal color palette…

A hand settles upon the prince’s shoulder. Toran need not look back to know it is his father. Blue eyes that hold centuries and enough courage to cause those who did not know the cheeky little smile of his to go running with weak knees.

“It’s time for dinner.” The Hero of Twilight speaks softly, encouraging the prince to pull from his stupor out the window and to join him. Toran does, pushing himself up.

Walking the hallways is quiet, a small bustle of servants and small monsters of magic (made to do menial labor) wandering about the castle’s halls.

There was no epoch this evening, just a gathering of Toran’s family and a few guests… Toran generally found himself outside of others when talk arose between his mother and them. He wanted to be practicing sword fighting, reading ancient texts that their ancestors crafted…

It wasn’t his place, his mother would say, _they have historians_ for that, _guards_ for the other. And his father would raise a brow at her, and she’d just tut her tongue and give him a hard look.

Toran never quite understood what that look meant. He assumes nothing good, but…

King and Hero sets a hand upon Toran’s shoulder as they reach the entrance to the banquet hall. Toran looks up to his father for some silent advice and receives a sympathetic smile. It asks him to please come. (He will give some sword lessons afterward.)

Setting a smile, the doors are pushed inward, and a chipper voice calls out to them from beyond.

“Link, there you are! We’ve been waiting for you and Toran both.”

His father chuckles. His voice is gravely and warm.

“I had to coax him from the windows, Midna.”

Toran stuffed his tongue into his cheek.

Tonight, was going to be long…

…

Queen …

Queen Zelda.

Just as her mother before her and her mother’s mother before her and her mother’s mother’s mother… A long line of ‘Queen Zelda’s’ were crowding her ancestry. It’s interesting then, to her, why she felt this pit in her stomach at the concept of _becoming_ Queen.

It was such an unsettling topic she’d indulged herself in an old habit she hadn’t done in an age. _Sitting with her books_. All of them stacked high as they could and a call to Vio to bring over any and all transcripts of ancient text or … _magic items_ he could possibly find. She wanted all of them and the spelunker was at least good at finding them.

Perhaps if she just sat herself away with all of her books, Zelda would grow numb to the idea still chasing around her head.

A coronation. She needed to pick out the decorations and cake and type of celebration. It was all a bit _much_ for her.

Give her the job, the responsibilities. None of those seemed all too harrowing. Helping those around her country with anything they desire or need, but to plan a celebration of _herself_ , for a crown that she already felt she bore the weight of?

…Or maybe it was that!

She did the work already, but the title in itself was daunting.

Zelda’s lips pressed firm in on themselves as she turned a page of an old tome, thick paper slowly being eaten away with time. She really needed to make sure they took better care of their histories and books.

Oh! Better yet, why not reach a hand towards the Gerudo? Certainly, there was some strenuous ties, but if they could dig into their shared past…

A knock interrupts her thoughts and the skimming of pages in a frazzled mind and Zelda peels her eyes upwards.

“Come in.”

The door creeks open and there stands a short figure. Angled features and long hair tied back firmly; glasses pushed up comfortably along his nose. He carries a bag that makes Zelda unable to help the smile, her book is carefully set aside, a strip of cloth set in as a bookmark and she stands.

“You look awful.” The figure states, teeth pulled back in a toothy grin. “Your hair’s all a mess, and whatever happened to your fingers! You’ve got so many bandages on them, it’s only been a day, Princess.”

Zelda moves beyond her piles and moves forward. “That’s quite a hoot coming from you.” She prods him when in reach, pushing up against his side as he shifts the bag he holds a bit looser in his left hand. “I’ve seen you after a dig, _Vio_ , and it is not this prim and proper figure.” She’s already going to grab for the bag, “Now let’s see it! It’s rude to keep a lady waiting all day.”

…

Toran slammed his sword into Link’s shield. The large, two-handed weapon weighed down his attacks, his father using that to his advantage is sliding behind the prince. Spinning on his heel, the twilian gave a loud grunted noise, following Link’s movement.

“They _always_ treat me like that!” It’s snapped in a snarl.

Link doesn’t reply, merely sidesteps backwards, letting his son’s wide swing go far.

“Why? I’m past my _Naming_ , aren’t I?” Slipping his stance in backwards, Toran corrects himself and moves inward to thrust himself forward in momentum to try and hit large and force his father to lose his defenses.

It’s an easy fix, Link rolls behind Toran, his sword swinging quick and precisely, settling firmly against the younger’s collarbone.

A soft tut of the tongue, “Toran, you’re wobbling.”

Toran waved a hand, his sword dropping from his grasp, vanishing into the ether of magic.

“I know! I’m just…” His face twists up, mouth pressing firm, long ears swinging low. “Ba, I don’t like being treated like a little kid.”

Link chuckles. “You should enjoy it while it lasts…” He raises a hand and Toran blinks. “Now go, clear your head. You can come back to sparring once you think you can beat me.”

Sighing, the Twilight Prince settles his hand in his hair and nods loosely. “Alright, Ba…” To the library he walks. The old castle’s halls still as quiet as ever sans the few servants that wander them.

A quiet noise pricks princeling’s ears as his heard turns and catches a door. One he hasn’t really put too much thought into. (It was just a closet, after all… There was nothing really of interest in it.)

Diverting his path, he wanders to the room. Trying the handle, Toran is surprised to find it _locked_. Frowning, his brows pull inward.

He tries again.

Definitely locked.

He eyes around the hallways. Empty. No signs of anyone coming or going. Biting at his tongue, prince carefully applies magic and force till, with a sharp _snap_ , the lock breaks along the inside and the door tumbles open and Toran tumbles inside with it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit Welcome!
> 
> I've got a base idea for the plot on this one and I'm almost done with the second chapter. I'm gonna try to keep this updated once a week ( min. twice a month ) 
> 
> Keep my fingers crossed I can keep up with this until it's finished.


End file.
